For over two months now, I’ve been dating this beautiful woman who is wearing a short olive green sundress with her wild, curly hair in a side ponytail. The Dallas humidity really took its toll earlier when we were taking outdoor pictures in front of the venueand at the location’s lake. She looks like a feral lioness, but I’m not complaining one bit about that.
Our love story is a strange one, but it definitely suits who we are. The flirty, once-spare prince who fell hard and fast for the weird plant-obsessed woman. A love story caught somewhere in-between a whirlwind hurricane and steady snowfall.
We finish the rehearsal, the whole gang laughing at the fact that I have to walk both Lucy and Lorelei down the aisle since we are one man short on the groomsman side of things. We get in trouble by the wedding coordinator a thousand more times as we goof off. She feels inclined to constantly remind us that this wedding will be livestreamed to the world on Mason’s social media account, but honestly, we couldn’t care less. We are here to marry off two beloved friends; who cares if the world sees our less-than-perfect sides.
That’s where we are headed as a society, right? Away from the fake and more towards the real. The raw. Reality. Showing not only the good but also the bad, the mistakes, the humorous moments.
“How was it, y’all?” Mason asks, walking up and in between me and Braxton. He throws his arms around us, grinning ear to ear. “Going to be the wedding of the century or what?”
Braxton laughs, “Well, you sang at mine, so…”
“And mine will be royal, so…”
We chortle, and as I look at these men and the group of women huddled off in the corner, a sad feeling sinks in. “I’m going to miss you guys when I leave. In a few short months, you’ve made this place truly feel like home. More so than this state did while I was in college withHadley.”
“Don’t get sappy on us, Fins,” Braxton says.
At the same time Mason draws out a long-winded, “Aww, how sweet.”
I roll my eyes. “Men, it’s okay to be emotionally honest with each other, you know?” They both laugh and shake their heads.
The wedding party gathers, and we all hop into the limo that met us at the airport a couple days ago. It has transported us all around Dallas, warranting a million photographers and fans to chase us around.
Because this isn’t your classic limousine.
This is American country superstar Mason Kane’s version.
It is a black Toyota Tundra limousine. A “Tundrasine.” With a bed attached to the end and everything. The 26-foot long vehicle insides consist of nine leather bucket seats, the middle ones reclinable, with a bench seat in the back. There are air controls for every row and a glossy brown siding along the doors to match the seat colors.
“A redneck man’s dream,” Mason had said a month ago when he booked it for the wedding festivities.
I sit between Lorelei and Lucy in the backseat. Lorelei wanted to be by the window, so I graciously sit in the middle so I can be beside her. She looks amazing in her olive green sundress, the material soft and flowy. Of course, in typical Lorelei fashion, she’s sporting her white sneakers, though she apparently promised Karoline she wouldn’t wear them for the wedding tomorrow.
I intertwine my fingers with hers and kiss the backside of her hand. She blushes lightly and plants a kiss on my cheek.
“I’m so ready to devour steak,” Hadley saysfrom the front seat.
“You mean you are ready to devour a rubber tire,” Braxton corrects her.
“She is still eating steak incorrectly?” I ask. She always ate the meat well-done in our college days when I’d take her out to fancy restaurants. She was the only one besides the president of the college that knew who I truly was during those days. I went by a different name. That all changed after I graduated and decided to date the world in search of adventure and the possibility of finding a love match for myself.
“It’s not wrong!” Hadley shouts in defense, turning to glare at me. “Just because I don’t want to consume bloody meat like I’m a Cullen doesn’t mean I’m eating steak wrong.”
We all laugh, and Lucy chimes in. “I’m with Hadley. Why eat a lump of blood?”
Lorelei retorts, “While I don’t eat it rare, medium-rare is better because you get nutrients you need.”
“Okay, Vampire Girl,” Lucy responds.
We continue conversations about food while we head towards the restaurant that’s been reserved for the wedding crew. We arrive at the popular steakhouse and are ushered into the main dining area that’s been low-lit with candles and string lights on the ceilings. The atmosphere is decidedly romantic. Mason and Karoline’s parents arrive, the pastor officiating the wedding, and the wedding planning duo who have put the whole event together.
Mason and Karoline sit at a table with their parents, Chantel, and Grant. The wedding planners sit off by themselves, and then I sit with the twins, Braxton, Hadley, and Pastor Rawls, the officiant.
“This is the end of an era,” Lucy says, looking around the table at each of us. Then her attention snags on Lorelei. “I can’t believe you are leaving next week.”
“Neither can I,” Lorelei says softly. “But let’s not talk about that. No need to enter panic mode on the eve of our friend’s wedding.”
“Right,” Lucy says, reaching for a buttered roll that the servers just set in front of us. The rest of us follow her lead.
